


How I Spent My Summer Vacation

by ShirleyAnn66



Category: Castle, Haven - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:45:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3133235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirleyAnn66/pseuds/ShirleyAnn66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castle's at loose ends while Kate is in Washington being trained for her new job with the Feds, Alexis is in Costa Rica and his mother is doing dinner theatre in the Mid-west.  His road trip to Canada is interrupted when he's passing through a charming little town called Haven, and strange things start to happen...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This little story has been begging to be written for a while now; I'm glad it's finally been given form!  This is set at the end of Season 5 of Castle (although I've cheated a bit, and we already know Beckett's accepted Castle's proposal), and in the middle of Season 2 of Haven (sometime after Audrey Parker's Day Off and before Who, What, When, Where, Wendigo, because IMO that's the last point before shit started to get real.  :) ).

Written for Journeystory BigBang

 

**DISCLAIMER:** I don't Castle, Haven, or any of the characters therein.  I'm just taking them for a ride, and I promise to get them home before midnight.  :)

**Link(s) to Art Master Post(s):** [by SexyCazzy](http://sexycazzy.livejournal.com/185958.html)

**Link(s) to Art Master Post(s):** [by danceswithgary](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3129992)

~~~~~~~~

 

Castle sits, the silence of the loft pressing in on him.  His glass is cold against his palm as the ice cubes melt into the liquor.

He is alone.

Alexis is in Costa Rica.  His mother is doing summer stock in the mid-west.  And Kate...

He sips his drink and listens to the silence.

Beckett’s in Washington, in intensive training for her new job, and out of contact for the next six weeks.  They’re solid, but he can’t help thinking they are still, somehow, ambiguous.  She eagerly accepted his marriage proposal, but this new job with the feds has put a damper on both their love life and their plans for the future.  But they’re together, and they love each other, and sooner or later, they’ll be married.

These six weeks will fly, and then they’ll all be home again, on the same damn day, and he wonders if it’s a conspiracy to keep him and Kate physically apart for as long as possible.  He smirks ruefully, and admits he’s looking forward to having them all back again, because he’s surprisingly lonely when he isn’t surrounded by women.

But their return is still six weeks in the future, and right now...

He sips his drink, the clink of ice cubes loud in the silence.

He has nothing but time.

For the first time since Alexis was born, he’s truly free to do whatever he wants to do.  No mother, no daughter, no significant other.  Footloose and fancy free, which is always a ticket to trouble, not to mention adventure and maybe even a good book.

He takes another sip from his glass.

But what to do?  He could call all his old buddies from his pre-Beckett days, get together for one last, news-making, city-shaking party.  He knows he should take advantage of Kate’s absence, because let’s face it:  once they’re married, he’ll never be given this much freedom again.  The idea of partying is strangely unappealing, and not just because most of his old buddies have also married and are now on diaper duty.  No, he’s not in the mood for destroying any hotels right now, although he might feel differently later in the summer, and there’s always his bachelor party to look forward to.

He wants to leave New York, get away from the oppressive silence of the loft, but he feels too restless for the familiarity of the Hamptons.  He could go west, but then he’d be tempted to drop in on his mother and give her some well-deserved criticism, and even that small opportunity for revenge doesn’t interest him.

He could go south, but he has no self-control.  He’d end up in DC where he’d stay, moping around Beckett’s new place, pissing her off and making her feel guilty...if she was even still in the city, that is.  It didn’t matter where she was, because she’d still figure out he’d been moping around her place, and he wants to marry the woman someday, so he knows stepping foot in DC would be a very bad decision.

He could be disciplined for once, and keep going south, but then he probably wouldn’t stop until he hit Costa Rica, and while Alexis’ dismay and embarrassment would be amusing, he needs to let her heal from Paris in her own way.  Not to mention he isn’t sure even _he_ could drive all the way to Costa Rica without getting into serious trouble.  If he has to call Beckett to rescue him, she’ll just kill him quickly.  If he’s lucky.

He could go east, but he has his own nightmares about Paris, and there’s a slight distrust now of the rest of Europe.  Besides, it’s no fun alone, and he wants to explore Europe with Kate.

So, he thinks, that leaves north.  Maybe he’ll go along the coast, through Maine and into Canada.  He’s never gone that way before, and Stephen King is always telling him that part of the country is beautiful.  He ponders the idea.  There are no relatives in that direction, as far as he knows, and he should manage to stay out of trouble long enough to have a relaxing vacation, meet some new people, and possibly get some ideas for a new book.  The more he thinks about it, the better the idea sounds.

He nods.  North it is.

He toasts his decision and heads into his study to write.


	2. Chapter 2

Castle pulls to a stop at a red light and glances around.  He’s somewhere in Maine, on the coast, and what he can see of the town is picturesque and quaint.  The welcome sign said Haven, and people bustle through the streets, not quite looking at him, intent on business of their own.  He can hear the words of all those Stephen King novels echoing in his mind and admires how well King captures that small town feel.  Castle makes a mental note to compliment him again the next time they play poker.

Castle knows he makes a striking picture:  handsome face, cool shades, windblown brown hair, crisp white shirt, and bright red convertible.  It’s enough to catch anyone’s eye, especially that of the young girl on his right, who’s waiting for the light to change.

Round is the only word for her:  round face, round eyes, round mouth hanging open as she stares at him, and since she’s literally as wide as she is tall, and wearing an orange shirt, it all combines to complete the picture of a giant basketball.

With legs.

Castle watches her from behind his dark sunglasses, and sees that beneath the fascination with him and his car, there’s something else, something sad, something rather hopeless in her face, behind those eyes, and his heart squeezes, but he can’t decide whether it’s with pity or sympathy or simply a paternal instinct to comfort a child so obviously in need of it. She _is_ a child, twelve or thirteen or possibly even fourteen.

He takes off his sunglasses, looks directly into her eyes, and calls, “Beautiful day, isn’t it?”  He smiles kindly, his own eyes crinkling at the corners, his charm at full throttle.

Her mouth snaps shut, her eyes get, if anything, even more round, and she blushes, hot, fiery blotches glowing in her cheeks.  Her eyes dart away and back and away again, then she lowers her head and nods, uncertainly, hesitantly, like a puppy who’s been kicked and is scared it’ll happen again.  Castle’s heart squeezes again.  Painfully.

He sees the light’s still red, and he says, “Nice town you have here.  Are those your school colours?”

Her blush deepens, and she fidgets nervously as she shakes her head without taking her eyes off the ground.

The light turns green, but there’s no one behind him, so he says, “Well, you’re lucky.  Not many people can wear orange, but the colour really complements your eyes,” and that, at least, is true.  “Have a great day!” he adds, and drives off with a wink and a wave, and a feeling that that little girl was in a world of hurt, and he hopes his kind words brightened her day, no matter how slightly.

But that haunted expression in her eyes haunts him, and he glances in his rear view mirror to catch another glimpse of her, and sees a dark, faceless feminine form rising out of the back seat, large wings unfurling, and he yells a regrettably high-pitched yell, slams on the brakes and skids into the light pole.

He doesn’t remember the impact, but he doesn’t think he’s out long, because the next thing he knows, he’s blinking and there’s something hot and stinging in his eye, and his head hurts, alternating between sharp and dull throbbing pain, and he’s wondering where all these people had come from, and why they were all talking so loudly.

He closes his eyes against the pain, and the next time he opens them, he’s in a hospital, and there are two people standing at the end of his bed.  He’s been hanging around the 12th long enough to recognize cops when he sees them.

The man is tall and lanky, all sharp angles with cheekbones that put even Beckett’s to shame.

“Mr. Castle?” he says, speaking in a laconic drawl, “I’m Nathan Wuornos.  This is my partner, Audrey Parker.  We’re with the Haven Police Department.”

Bingo, Castle thinks, and barely glances at the badges they flash his way.

“What happened?” he asks.

Nathan and Audrey exchange glances loaded with hidden meanings and entire conversations, and Castle wonders if that’s how he and Beckett appear sometimes.

“We’re hoping you can tell us,” Audrey says.  She’s a sweet-faced blonde with a no-nonsense expression and a core of strength that Castle immediately recognizes and respects.

“I’m not sure you’ll believe me,” he tells them cautiously.

They exchange another crowded glance and turn their attention back to him.

“Try us,” Nathan says drily, and Castle wonders what exactly they’ve seen to create such wryly humorous resignation on the other man’s face.

“Witnesses say you suddenly yelled out, like you’d been startled by something,” Audrey says.

“I--yes.  I looked in the rear view mirror, and...” he shakes his head, then winces at the movement.

Nathan and Audrey wait patiently.

Once the pain subsides enough for him to answer, Castle grimaces and says, “I thought I saw...well, an angel, rising out of the back seat.”  He frowns for a moment, wondering why the words seem familiar before he shrugs and refocuses on the two cops watching him with identical deadpan expressions.

Nathan raises an eyebrow.  “An angel.”

“Yes.  Well, I’m not sure, but it was humanoid, and there were wings...I mean, what else could it be?”  Castle frowns, winces again, and presses his fingers against the white patch of bandage over his right eye.  “Shit,” he groans, “am I gonna have a scar?” He brightens.  “A _rakish_ scar?”

“Is there any other kind?” Audrey asks drily.

Castle preens, just a little, and says, “Of course, any scar on me is rakish by definition.”

Nathan snorts, and Audrey presses her lips together against a smile, before they exchange another meaning-layered glance, and nod.

“Okay, Mr. Castle.  Thank you,” Audrey says, and they move to leave.

“Wait a minute,” Castle protests.  “You mean that’s it?”

Audrey shrugs.  “For now.  We’ll need you to come to the station and make a statement once you’re released, but other than that, you’re free to go.”

Castle’s confused, but he puts the officers’ lack of curiosity down to skepticism.  The detectives of the 12th have their poker faces down to a science, but he has to admit that these two even have those hardened cops beat.  If Castle didn’t know better, he’d think they heard stories like his every day.

They leave, and he gratefully swallows the painkillers the nurse gives him and slips into sleep.  He’s woken every two hours, so he’s heavy-eyed and sluggish when the doctor examines him the next day and tells him he’s good to go.

He thinks about the two cops and their strange reaction to his story, or, rather, their non-reaction, as he dresses, then goes through the formalities of getting released from the hospital.  He must have been really out of it yesterday to think he’d seen an actual angel in his back seat, because in the bright light of day, he realizes he must have been confused by something reflected in his rear view mirror.  He’s almost embarrassed, but then he remembers being naked while riding that horse, and dressing as Elvis when it wasn’t Halloween, and thinks this incident barely registers on the Castle Embarrassment Scale.

He steps out onto the street and considers the town.  Bustling at mid-morning, clean, seems nice enough.

His headache is dulled by the meds the doctor prescribed, so now all he needs to do is find a place to stay, then he can head to the police station, make his statement, and find out what happened to his car.  He wonders how long it will take to get fixed.  If it takes too long, he thinks, well, he can always have it towed to New York while he rents a car and continues his trip to Canada.  Neither light pole nor hallucination will stop his plans.

He puts on his still-intact shades and strikes off towards what looks like the centre of town.  As he strolls, he begins to spin a tale for his insurance company...although they’ll get a copy of the police report.  All right, the insurance company gets the truth, but Beckett, on the other hand, not to mention Ryan and Espo, and Alexis, and dear God, his _mother,_ will all get a thrilling, action-packed story that ends with him running into a light pole while still catching the bad guys.  He’s not quite sure of the details yet, but he’ll figure it out.  He has time after all.

He’s vaguely aware that people are staring, some even turning to watch him go by.  Well, he _is_ Richard Castle, he muses, absently patting the withers of the horse he’s riding, his armour clanking as he moves, of course they’re staring.

Wait.  Withers.  What?

He stares down at his hand, encased in a gleaming white metal glove, and it’s resting against the muscled, chestnut-coloured shoulder of a horse.  A shoulder that flickers orange-red-yellow-white, as if it were on--

“Fire!” he yelps, another unfortunately high-pitched scream, and throws himself off the horse, landing on his right side with a bone-jarring thud and a deafening clash of the metal armour that encases him, and which now seems to have been shoved against every inch of his body, especially the side that hit the sidewalk.

He groans as pain radiates from his previous injuries and what he’s sure will be some spectacular new bruises.  He mentally strikes ‘Role Play:  Jousting Knight and Lady’ from his list of plans for Beckett once she’s out of training, because hitting the pavement while encased in gleaming white armour absolutely _sucks_.

The fact that he’s encased in gleaming white armour is something he’s really going to think about once the pain stops.  Not to mention the horse.  And the fire.

He whimpers.

“Mr. Castle?”

“Detective Parker,” he says without opening his eyes.  God knows, he’s no coward, but right now, he has no desire to find out what he’ll see.

“Care to explain what you’re doing?”

Detective Wuornos.  Of course.  He suspects one is seldom seen without the other.

“Waiting for the pain to subside,” he says.  “Is it gone?”

“Is what gone?”

“The horse!  The horse that’s also on fire!  And how the hell did I get into this armour?”

There’s a pause, and Castle’s too busy trying to tell if anything’s broken to really care if they were starting to think he was insane.  _He_ was starting to think he was insane!  If he ended up in some psych ward, Beckett would never forgive him.  Or marry him, come to think of it.  He fervently hopes the last few minutes were an hallucination brought on by lack of sleep and an allergic reaction to his pain meds.

He hears the murmur of voices and it calms him.  He can’t hear the words, but the tones are familiar:  the calm, professional sound of cops getting statements, and it soothes him enough to cautiously open his eyes and blink up at the blue sky and the blinding sun.

He realizes Detective Parker had been quickly and professionally checking out his arms and legs, and--

“Where’d it go?” he asks, his voice strident.  He’s glad Ryan and Espo aren’t there to snicker at him; he’s having more than enough problems at the moment.

“The horse?” Audrey asks absently, moving her attention to his neck and head and checking the dilation of his pupils.

“No!  The armour!”

“Ah, yes, I’ve heard about that.”

Castle’s eyes open wide.  She looks blandly back.

“What--” and he stops, for once at a loss for words, because she doesn’t seem surprised, and she doesn’t have the ‘let’s-humor-the-crazy-man’ expression he’s seen often enough on Beckett’s face, and Ryan’s and Esposito’s.

“Am I dreaming?” he demands.

Audrey chuckles.  “I wish I could say yes, Mr. Castle.  Do you think you can stand?”

“I--yes.”

“Good.  Because I think you need a drink.”

She stands, then holds out her hand and helps him to his feet.

They walk over to Nathan, who glances at Audrey and nods.  



	3. Chapter 3

The dim bar they walk into would be charming if Castle wasn’t in such a shocked state.  Not even the 3XK had knocked him as off-balance as this.  Of course, this is the first time he’s honestly afraid for his mind, that instrument he plays so well for both his books and his work with Beckett and the 12th.

He sits shakily on a bar stool and barely notices the curious looks the tall, dark, long-faced bartender named Duke is giving him.  Duke puts a drink in front of him, then joins Nathan and Audrey in a huddle, where they whisper urgently.

Castle picks up the scotch with shaking hands, and sips.  The taste of the liquor calms him, until he remembers the pain meds, and regretfully pushes the glass away.  He doesn’t need any bad reactions from mixing drugs and alcohol, and being stoned isn’t going to help him figure out if he’s truly losing his mind, or if he’s the victim of some giant practical joke.

He brightens at the thought.  Maybe Beckett has arranged all of this, like she arranged the Rear Window thing for his birthday.

Except she doesn’t know he’s left New York, and he deflates.  He didn’t even tell Ryan and Espo where he was going, only that he was leaving town for a few weeks, and he’d call them when he got back.

As the two cops and barkeeper return, he looks at them, a determined albeit terrified gleam in his eyes.

“I am not losing my mind,” he says.

“We know,” Audrey says.  “Tell me, Mr. Castle--”

“Just Castle.  Or Rick.”

Her mouth quirks up at the corners, but her smoky blue eyes stay watchful.  “Tell me...Rick, do you have any relatives in town?”

He frowns.  “Not to my knowledge,” he says slowly.

“Not originally from around here?”

He shakes his head.  “Not as far as I know, but then again, I don’t know anything about my dad.  Why?”

She glances at Nathan and Duke, who look unhappy but resigned, then turns back to him.

“Let’s just say...there are things that happen only to people who have roots in Haven.”

He considers her thoughtfully.  “Things like...angels in the backseat, or suddenly wearing armour while riding a horse that’s on fire?”

She smiles.  “Things exactly like that.”

He stares, expressionless.  “Am I being punk’d?” he asks finally.

“If only,” Nathan sighs.

Duke raises an eyebrow.  “You know what that means?”

“I grew up with you, didn’t I?”

“True.”

“Guys,” Audrey chides softly, and Castle smiles.  The interplay is something blessedly familiar in a world that’s become frighteningly off-kilter.

Audrey turns her attention back to him, her eyes clear, direct, cautious.

“You’re not being punk’d,” she assures him.

Castle meets her gaze for another moment, then shrugs and says, “Tell me more.”

“Do you believe us?” Duke demands.  “Just like that?”

“Better than the alternative.”

“Yeah?  And what’s the alternative?”

“That I’ve lost my mind, and I’m out of a job.”

Castle sees the trio’s relief, and Nathan’s face relaxes into a shy, surprisingly sweet half-smile.

“Before things get crazy...” he shrugs at Castle’s wide, disbelieving stare, “crazier, I just wanted to say I love your books.  I’m a huge fan.”

Castle sits a little straighter and grins with flattered pride.

“Wait -- you’re _that_ Richard Castle?” Duke demands.

Castle nods.

“I love your books, too, and I guess if an outsider had to get pulled into Haven’s special brand of crazy, I’m glad it’s you.”

~~~~~

Castle listens with a growing fascination, and steadfast skepticism, as Audrey, Duke and Nathan take turns telling him about Haven and its Troubles.  About the unexplained -- and unexplainable -- things that happen here, from a woman whose emotions control the weather, to a man whose shadow acts independently and murderously, to Nathan’s inability to feel anything physical, to Duke’s temporary super-strength when he absorbs the blood of a Troubled person.

Then there’s Audrey:  immune to the Troubles, and unchanging, Haven’s saviour time and time and time again.

He listens, and he can hear Beckett in his head, arguing for a logical explanation.  Mass delusions, maybe, or poisoned water that causes shared hallucinations.  But Beckett isn’t here, and Castle...

Castle listens, and his excitement rises, and the part of him that believes, that _truly believes_ , in Bigfoot and curses and the magic of the unknown is waking, and is giggling as gleefully as a child at this town that’s living proof of every crazy idea he could come up with, and more.

The fact that he seems to be the target of one of these Troubles is the only thing that keeps him from jumping up and down with joy.

“What do you suggest I do?” he asks when they’ve finished.  He’s torn between wanting to run as far as possible from this town that kills indiscriminately, and staying to experience more of these Troubles first hand.  Although that ‘kills indiscriminately’ thing does dampen the desire somewhat.  At least the killers he tracks with Beckett and the others are logical...to a certain definition of ‘logical’, anyway.

His three companions share a glance before Audrey says, “I suggest you get out while the getting’s good.  Troubles like these tend to stay within the town limits.  Well.  As far as we know, anyway.”

“So I’m sort of like a lightning rod for this particular Trouble?  I’m attracting it by my mere presence?”

“Possibly,” Audrey says cautiously.  “Right now, it’s as good a theory as any other.  At least this Trouble doesn’t seem to be deadly.”

“Well, the horse was on fire,” he reminds her.

“But you weren’t.  Did you feel any heat from it?”

He pauses, thinking, because he had obviously been on the horse for a while before he realized it.  “No,” he says thoughtfully.

Audrey smiles.  “Well, I don’t mean to be inhospitable, but I think you need to be out of town by nightfall.”

Castle wavers, torn between a desire to learn more, his wariness about actually surviving the town if he decides to stay, and his certain knowledge that Kate would have his hide if he got hurt or worse on his summer vacation, especially if he did it by sticking his nose in where it didn’t belong.  Because he’s never done that before.

He nods reluctantly, for once listening to his inner Beckett urging him to err on the side of caution.  “All right.  But I reserve the right to come back this way later this summer.”

“I wouldn’t push my luck, if I were you.”

~~~~~

He leaves.

Rents a car and gets as far as Derry, where he glances at the dashboard and sees an array of more angels, only these ones are playing harps and floating tranquilly on clouds.

He doesn’t run into anything this time, and returns to Haven to tell the others the Trouble seems to be following him, and it’s probably better for the rest of the world if he stuck around for a while.  He’s both frightened, and excited, because his fingers itch, and that always means there are stories to be heard and to be told.  But contrary to popular belief, he’s not stupid.

He calls Ryan and Espo and gives vague reasons for his interest in a tiny town in Maine.  They’re hesitant until he tells them he’s thinking about a new book, starring two intrepid New York cops, transplanted to a quirky town known for its odd happenings.

They buy it, and report back that other than an unusually high rate of infrastructure failures and gas leaks, and a lighthouse that seems to be in ruins more often than it’s functional, there’s nothing particularly newsworthy about Haven.

He thinks about calling Beckett, if only to get his feet back in reality, but she’s incommunicado for another five weeks.  He suspects she’s learning even more ways to murder him in his sleep, or while he’s awake, and if he breaks this rule, she’ll take great pleasure in showing him everything’s she’s learned.  He shudders.  And not in the good way he knows and loves.

He does call Alexis, but the connection is bad, and she doesn’t have time to talk anyway as she’s heading out to find, of all things, pie, and he sadly wonders if Costa Rica is known for its pies.  As he ends the call, he realizes he misses the little girl she used to be, the one who would have loved hearing this story and given him ideas to explore.

He even calls his mother - a sign of how desperate he is - but more to see if she knows of any family connections in Maine.  She’s too busy being Martha to really listen, and says no in a distracted way, then tells him she’s in a hurry, they’re in the middle of dress rehearsal, and to ‘enjoy yourself, darling’.

He tosses the phone onto the night stand, flops back on the bed in the tiny bed and breakfast place Audrey recommended, stares at the ceiling and allows himself a moment to pout.  If he knew how to contact his father, he would, although he doubts Jackson Hunt, or whatever his real name may be, would be a good solution for the problem Castle faces.  He also doubts Haven is Hunt’s home town.

He scowls at the ceiling, then allows his innate good sense to take over, and contrary to what everyone believes, he does have some.

Whatever this is, this Trouble, it hasn’t caused him any real harm.  It’s been his reactions that have caused damage.  Yes, it seems to have attached itself to him, but he’s been in strange situations before, and he’s always gotten out of them.

Besides, he has five weeks to figure things out, and he suspects the two detectives and their somewhat less law-abiding barkeep friend have a pretty good track record of solving these Troubles, otherwise...well, he suspects they’ve faced even more unpredictable things than serial killers and crazed spies.

Not to mention, and here he smiles slowly and rather evilly as he does a little soft shoe across the ceiling, this place is a treasure trove of stories, he can _smell_ them, and probably more than enough of them to give old Steve a run for his money.

Wait.

He’s dancing.

On the ceiling.

He lands on the bed with a thud and a whoosh as his breath escapes him.

Well, he thinks, Beckett would definitely not appreciate that, if she had been on the bed, but at least now he knows what this Trouble is about.

~~~~~

“Songs from the 80s?” Nathan says incredulously.

Castle nods eagerly.

“So...we’re looking for somebody old?” Duke says.

Castle shrugs. “Or just somebody who listens to an oldies station and, I don’t know, gets an earwig or something.”

They look thunderstruck.

“An earwig Trouble?” Audrey says. “Where the song that’s stuck in their head manifests itself on...you? Why you?”

Castle opens his mouth, then shrugs. “That, I’m a little unclear about. But maybe it isn’t focused on me. I mean, only me.”

He takes in their blank stares. He leans forward.

“Okay, look. We all think about different things, at the same time. So, we’re having this conversation, but you’re probably also thinking about the ten other Troubles you need to take care of, what’s caused them in the first place, what is Audrey’s true identity, and when are you going to get something to eat. I’m a pretty flashy guy. Somebody saw me driving my cherry red convertible, and at the same time has this bloody earwig of that Meat Loaf song, and voila!”

“Voila?” Audrey asks.

“‘I can see her rising up out of the back seat now-’“

“‘Just like an angel rising up from the tomb’,” Nathan finishes.

Duke and Audrey look at him with equally mocking expressions.

He shrugs. “It could be Haven’s theme song,” he mutters, “the past is never far enough away.”

Audrey and Duke share a glance, shrug and turn back to Castle, whose eyes are sparkling.

He grins. “Since I’m stuck here until I either stop being the object of this person’s thoughts, or you, Audrey, find and help them, I may as well help you guys out as much as I can. It’s what I do in New York, anyway. While I’m at it, I’m so going to pick yours and everyone else’s brains.”

His fingertips itch for his keyboard, in much the same way they’d itched the first time he met Kate.

There are stories here, stories he desperately wants to hear.


	4. Chapter 4

They try to talk him out of it.

“It’s too dangerous,” Duke says.

“I help solve murders in New York every day,” he says, “or at least I used to. I have the skills to help you!”

“Oh, really? Have you ever faced animals -- dead ones, stuffed and mounted -- that came back to life?”

Castle’s eyes light up. “No, but it sounds amazing!”

“Yeah? They killed everyone in their path.”

“Well, yes, that is a bummer. Have you had a serial killer who deliberately tortured and murdered their victims?”

They pause and think about it.

“Well,” Nathan says, “no.”

“Trust me, those psychos you don’t want. At least your killers don’t mean to kill, and really, if they could learn to control their Troubles, they would be so cool!”

“Cool?” Nathan snaps. “I have no sense of touch. How ‘cool’ is that?”

“That’s...unfortunate, yes, but at least it doesn’t kill anybody. I assume you have somebody check you over on a regular basis? Make sure you don’t have some festering boil on your backside that’s slowly killing you?”

Nathan and Audrey shoot rapid-fire glances at each other even as he stammers, and says “No,” then glares at Duke’s rude, jeering laughter.

Castle grins, his eyes sparkling. “Wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

“Hey!” Audrey says, raising her hands in protest. “Don’t look at me! That’s taking this whole partner thing a little too far!”

There’s a quick flash of hurt in Nathan’s eyes, and an answering apology in Audrey’s, but there’s a flicker of something else in her eyes, too: fear and uncertainty and an indecipherable knowing, and Castle wonders what’s holding her back, besides the Troubles themselves. Then again, she’s a woman who has been to Haven many times, in many different guises, over centuries probably, and if he thought his relationship with Beckett was complicated, it was a walk in the park compared to Audrey and Nathan...and Duke, judging from the resigned expression on Duke’s face.

Castle’s fingers twitch.

Stories.

~~~~~

In the end, he wears them down with his wit, charm, intelligence...and reminding them that he is a world-famous author, and if he dies in Haven, the entire world would descend on the town, and if being hounded by the paparazzi didn’t trigger a multitude of Troubles, he didn’t know what would.

Not to mention the havoc Beckett, Alexis and - dear God - his mother would wreak on the place.

The three semi-reluctant allies look at each other with resigned expressions, and give in, just like he knew they would.

~~~~~

His first case involves an ice Trouble, with people being found, frozen solid. They’re fragile, too, shattering when dropped, something they discover at the first crime scene when one of the paramedic’s hands slip and the body falls to the ground with a crash, pieces spinning off in all directions.

They stare at the fragmented remains, then Castle says, “You know, this isn’t all that different from what I see in New York.”

~~~~~

Castle peppers them with questions during their small moments of peace, sitting in the Grey Gull or on Duke’s boat, at the precinct or in Audrey’s apartment above the bar.

“Have you had a Bigfoot?” he asks.

They frown, thinking, then shake their heads.

“Oh.” He pouts. He’s been harbouring a faint hope of such a Trouble. He wanted to take a picture with the person in full Bigfoot mode and gleefully wave it in Beckett’s face. Not that she’d believe it, of course. She’d just assume it was a cosplay, but at least he would know the truth.

“We have mermaids,” Nathan offers. “Well, mermen, actually, but still.”

Castle immediately brightens. “That’s awesome! Have you ever talked to them about what that’s like, to live under the sea? How do they survive?”

“They’re mermen,” Duke says, “that means they can breathe water.”

Castle waves away his comment. “Yes, yes, yes, but how do they eat? What do they eat? How do they protect themselves from predators? How do they sleep? Where do they sleep? How do they see?” His eyes and voice become dreamy. “What’s it like, to be one with the ocean? Does it feel like flying as they swim beneath the waves? Can’t you see them, gracefully moving through the water, almost dancing as they explore a world we’ve barely glimpsed, the light coming through in ways we can’t even imagine.” His voice drops to a whisper. “It must be beautiful...”

There’s suspended silence as he drifts away, his eyes staring off into the distance as he dreams of swimming beneath the waves with nothing between him and the ocean in which all life began.

He blinks, glances at the others and smiles sheepishly. “The stories they could tell,” he sighs.

Nathan frowns. “Hadn’t thought of it like that before,” he mutters.

Duke nods, his dark eyes wide. “I love the ocean, but never considered there may be something beautiful in that particular Trouble. Other than being able to avoid all the others, that is.”

Audrey watches Castle, a thoughtful expression on her face. “You know,” she says slowly, “you may be a good addition to our team after all.”

He smirks and preens. “Well, you’ve got me now,” he says, “at least for the summer.”

~~~~~

Castle’s both thrilled and amused. No matter how outlandish his theory, the real Trouble always seems to trump him. He’s used to that, of course, since his theories during a case are always trumped by reality, but it knocks him a little off balance to be trumped by something even more bizarre than his theories rather than something ordinary, like greed or jealousy or psychopathy.

As he’s watching dolls--innocent, harmless dolls--moving on their own and with murderous intent, he realizes two things: one, he now has an unhealthy phobia of dolls, and two, if he could only tie in a government conspiracy, he could die a happy man.

He floats the idea at the Grey Gull one day, but it’s shot down simply because the Troubles began so long ago.

He pouts, then brightens. “Aliens!”

~~~~~

Castle likes his new-found friends, and respects them, too.

Audrey is tough as nails, yet compassionate, and she reminds him of Beckett in all the best ways. Audrey is a little less prone to ball-busting, but not afraid to do it, either, if necessary. There’s an underlying vulnerability, too, that makes her courage and dedication to helping the Troubled even more remarkable.

Duke is a rogue and a smuggler, comfortable with being a little outside the law, and fighting a losing battle against the side of him that’s determined to be a hero. Castle also likes him for the twinkle in his eye and the danger that lurks behind his charming facade.

Nathan is deadpan, vulnerable, reticent and sometimes socially awkward, but as dedicated to helping the Troubled as Audrey. Castle admires his staunch loyalty to her and is amused by his stubborn refusal to admit his loyalty extends to Duke as well.

The three together are combustible and unstoppable, and he admires their bravery, their dedication to helping the Troubled, and their shared desire to save the town. They’re also utterly charming, and Castle hopes they’ll all make it out of the Troubles alive.

~~~~~

Castle proves valuable, of course.

His sharpshooting saves them from the dolls, and when the corpses begin being found with human bite marks, it’s Castle who suggests the idea of the walking dead.

They consider the suggestion, then Duke says, “I guess there’s no reason why there couldn’t be a Trouble that raises people from the dead.”

Castle’s eyes light up. “This town is the best!”

His tune changes dramatically when they come face to face with the zombies. Classic ones. Shuffling, brain craving, mindlessly killing, really-reanimated-corpses zombies, who, Castle notes, are a lot faster in real life than the mythology suggests.

As they’re running for their lives, Nathan yells, “How do you like them now?”

“At a distance!” Castle yells back and puts on a spurt of speed.

But he’s the one who knows all the zombie lore, and he is surprisingly accurate. After they pinpoint the person with the Trouble, and Audrey soothes them into realization and acceptance that they’re the one responsible for the zombie apocalypse, and the last of the zombies is dispatched, the four of them retreat to the Grey Gull for some well-deserved drinks.

“You know,” Castle says after they’ve clinked their glasses in exhausted relief and he’s smacking his lips in appreciation of Duke’s finest scotch, “I own a bar, too. The Old Haunt, in New York. If you ever need a break, you should come visit.”

Audrey smiles. “What would you tell your friends and family about us?”

“I know lots of people,” he says casually, “it’s how I write as well as I do. You’ll be cops and robber,” Duke raises his glass in mock salute, “from a small town in Maine. Nobody needs to know more than that.”

“And if they overhear us reminiscing about that time we hunted zombies?”

“I talk about zombies all the time.” He pauses, then shrugs. “Although maybe not as often after this.” He grins. “The offer’s open. Just let me know when you want to visit.”

~~~~~

Castle’s a talker. Always has been. He’s used to being the centre of attention wherever he goes. But Castle also listens, and he has a skill at creating trust with those who never trust anyone. He’s used it in the past with members of the mafia and the CIA, listening with genuine interest and without judgement. It’s part of what makes him who he is, so when he talks to the Troubled, he’s naturally curious, naturally empathetic, and looks at their Troubles with different eyes and expectations.

Even the Teagues brothers soften towards him and tell him more than they’ve ever told any outsider before. Vince and Dave can’t explain to themselves or each other why they trust him, but they do, and allow him unprecedented access to their newspaper’s archive. He spends several ecstatic days there, and the only blemishes on his boyish enjoyment is the fact that Kate’s not with him, and Alexis has been too busy in Costa Rica for more than a few short phone calls.

There are a few tense moments with Nathan, Duke and Audrey when he goes to speak to the Rev and his followers, but really, how could he _not_ talk to them? A religious group of Havenites without Troubles, who believe the Troubled are cursed and need to be destroyed? Sometimes, you just can’t make this shit up.

When he’s confronted by members of the Guard, a group of Troubled people who protect the Troubled from people like the Rev, he’s almost overwhelmed with glee, even as he’s thoroughly intimidated by the blonde giant named Dwight, who could give Esposito a run for his money in the bad ass department. Castle manages to charm them, too, of course, or perhaps he just confuses them. Nah, he scoffs to himself, of course, he charms them. No one’s immune, after all, and he’s sure even Captain Gates will come around...in another twenty or thirty years.

He visits Marian Caldwell, whose emotions influence the weather, and he makes her laugh--actually laugh--about her Trouble (‘You could make a fortune, hiring yourself out for outdoor weddings! Or as a rainmaker out in California, so long as you don’t cause any mudslides, anyway. And how awesome is it to have a picnic whenever you want and know it’s never going to rain?’).

Castle goes to the mermen’s family, the Glendowers, and gently interviews the women and girls left behind. He’s momentarily interrupted by another instance of being in the middle of a song, but it’s over almost as soon as he realizes what’s going on.

The Glendowers don’t even blink. It’s Haven, after all, and any Trouble that doesn’t kill half the bystanders is a _good_ Trouble.

When it’s time for Castle to leave, he shakes their hands and hugs the children, then asks, “Would it be all right if I were to visit the men in your family?”

The women reel back.

“Visit them? They’re underwater!” says Gwen Glendower, the current matriarch of the family.

“I can get scuba gear,” he says, “and a board to write on.” He looks at the women and girls standing in front of him, and his eyes are sad. “It must be hard for them, not knowing how you are or what’s going on.”

“They won’t talk to you.”

“But I can leave them a message.” He makes a sudden decision. “I’ll bring some supplies out as soon as I can get them, and I’ll leave your messages, too.” He looks around. “Does anybody else know how to scuba dive?”

Gwen glances at the others then tentatively raises her hand.

“We’ll go together,” he says.

And they do, several days later. While Nathan, Audrey and Duke are struggling to stop a Trouble that’s shorting out the power grid, Castle and Gwen are beneath the waves, leaving messages of love for those who cannot yet come home.

~~~~~

Castle sits in his hotel room at night and writes.

He writes about shame and loss and trauma. He writes about bravery and endurance and determination. He writes about love and laughter and trust so deep it can never be broken. He writes about loneliness and lost souls. He writes about fear. He writes about happiness. He writes about the bonds of family, those that are forged by blood, those that are forged by necessity, and those that are forged by choice.

He writes, and it’s the best work he’s ever done.


	5. Chapter 5

The days tick past.

Kate’s still incommunicado, his mother’s still on the road and ‘having the time of my life, darling! You really must see the show, it’s amazing!’ Alexis, when he manages to catch her at a good time, is having the time of her life, too, although Castle is beginning to worry about her newfound obsession with pie. Ryan and Esposito are busy with cases, and Lanie is busy helping them. In spite of his new friends and the never-ending excitement in Haven, Castle’s still feels a little lonely and a little disheartened that the people he loves the most and spends the most time with don’t seem to miss him when he’s not around.

He immediately dismisses the thought, because he is, after all, Richard Castle, and optimism is his middle name, and really, one should always look on the bright side of life, and that makes him laugh because, of course, Monty Python, and he begins to whistle. He stops abruptly, wondering if he’s thinking of the song because he’s thinking about it, or because whoever’s Trouble has attached itself to him is manifesting once more. He’s reassured when he realizes he’s not tied to a cross in a robe, so he assumes it’s really him, and goes back to whistling the tune on his way to the police station.

He’s waiting for the light to change, and he’s looking around, bright-eyed and curious, when his gaze falls on a familiar, unfortunately round girl, waiting on the opposite side of the street and once again wearing orange. They pass in the middle of the street, and Castle, being Castle, grins and says, “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” He catches a glimpse of the same haunting sadness in her eyes before she blushes and looks at the ground.

He’s in full, blindingly white armour, his horse a fiery - literally – chestnut by the time he arrives at the police station, to find Nathan, Duke and Audrey rushing out the door. They stop in their tracks and stare at him with almost identical deadpan expressions.

“How are you keeping it going?” Nathan asks.

“By not reacting to it,” Castle says. “I think it’s a good look for me, don’t you?”

Audrey chuckles and says, “Come back down to earth, Romeo. We have a deadlier Trouble than that to deal with today.”

In the blink of an eye, Castle is standing in front of them, the armour, fire and horse gone as if they had never existed.

“Okay,” he says, “and when that’s done, I’ll tell you whose Trouble is focused on me.”

Audrey opens her mouth, but a car next to the station is suddenly cut in half, sparks flying, and they scramble for cover from the man walking down the street with lasers firing from his eyes.

“Lasers! From his eyes!” Castle chortles, then yelps as the next shot passes close enough to scorch the top of his head.

Audrey fails to talk the guy down from his rage and Troubles-induced power trip. He’s also able to aim with laser-like precision -- and even Castle winces at such a pathetic pun -- and burns the guns from Audrey’s, Nathan’s and Duke’s hands, with, really, one quick glance, and Castle’s even more impressed. If the guy wasn’t getting his kicks from toying with them, they’d be dead already.

“Any ideas?” Audrey asks, glancing at Nathan, who’s looking grim and worried.

“No.”

They turn to Duke, who looks sick as he shakes his head.

“Damn,” Castle sighs, “I wish I still had that armour.”

As one, the others turn to give him incredulous looks.

He raises an eyebrow. “It was like a mirror,” he says.

Realization dawns, and his three companions exchange thoughtful looks.

“Do you think it would work?” Duke asks.

“Can’t hurt to try it,” Audrey says.

“I’ll test it,” Nathan says, eyeing the side mirror on the car they’re crouched behind.

Duke and Audrey both frown at him, and he shrugs.

“If it doesn’t work, at least I won’t feel it when it goes through my hand.”

Audrey winces. “Nathan,” she says softly, and their eyes meet and cling, and Castle watches, both amused and abruptly, desperately homesick for Kate and their own special connection. He’ll send her a text--he cringes as the car beside them explodes in a rain of sparks and debris, because this guy is _really_ enjoying playing with them, and that’s starting to piss Castle off--if he makes it out of this alive, of course.

The explosion snaps Audrey and Nathan out of their own world, and they refocus on the problem at hand. Nathan and Duke pry off the side mirror while Audrey distracts the guy, and when Nathan’s ready, he casts another look at her, then darts out when the guy starts using his laser eyes to cut up the car on the other side of them and intercepts the beam with the mirror.

It works; the laser deflects into a nearby building, cutting a neat hole through a wall and likely out the other side. A distant part of Castle hopes the occupants of the building had beat a strategic retreat from the mayhem outside, and decides that of course they had, because it’s not their first time at the rodeo.

The guy is not amused, and as always, it’s Audrey who saves the day when she notices a full length mirror in the store behind them. Duke and Castle break into the store while she keeps trying to talk the guy out of his murderous rage, and Nathan runs interference with the mirror in his hand.

But the guy’s drunk on the power of his Trouble, and Castle can’t blame him. He’s giddy just watching someone shoot lasers out of his eyes, he doesn’t know what he’d be like if he could do it himself. Actually, he does know, and it wouldn’t be pretty. His insurance would never cover all the damage he’d cause, mostly inadvertently.

The full length mirror is exactly what they need, and Audrey deflects the next shot back at the shooter and it’s all over in a matter of seconds.

Dwight arrives and starts the clean-up and the citizens of Haven come out of whatever cubbyholes they hide in when a Trouble is on the rampage, and life goes back to normal.

Or whatever passes as ‘normal’ in Haven.

Castle sends a shakily typed text to Kate that simply says, “Love you. Miss you.” She won’t respond, of course; he’s not even sure if she has her phone with her, wherever she is for her super-secret, super-special training, but at least she’ll know he was thinking of her when she gets back. Which, he realizes with sudden happiness, is ten days from today.

He sends the same text to Alexis and his mother, both of whom may respond, if they have time. It’s not really a text that requires a response, anyway, it’s just something that is, and he’s swamped with homesickness, and realizes that yes, he’s ready to go home, back to Kate and his family and friends, and his far more mundane world of ordinary killers and psychopaths.

He puts his phone away and follows Duke to the Grey Gull, where they both gulp down stiff shots of tequila before having a longer, slower drink together as they wait for Audrey and Nathan to finish doing their cop thing and join them, which they do a short time later. They move to one of the tables, sprawling in their chairs.

It’s not until they’re on their second beer that Duke says to Castle, “You know whose Trouble is affecting you?”

Castle nods, and says, “Well, I don’t know her name, but I know who it is.”

The others share an amused glance, then Audrey says, “I get it, it’s been a long day.”

Castle laughs. “No, I mean I’ve seen her before, the first day I was in town, just before I ran into the pole. She’s a child, about twelve or so, and she’s...” he grimaces. “I don’t mean to sound cruel but she’s...round. I mean, everything about her is round, and she has an unfortunate tendency to wear orange.”

He remembers the girl he’d passed in the street that morning, although it feels like it was a century ago. A lot happens in Haven in less than a day, he thinks, just like in New York. Whoever thinks small towns are boring needs to get out more.

“Cecelia Kenda,” Nathan says.

They all turn interested eyes towards him.

“She was in my découpage class last year,” he mutters.

“So what’s her story?” Audrey asks.

Nathan shakes his head. “I don’t know. We never spoke.” He frowns, then says, “She did incredibly beautiful work, though.”

“So why didn’t she fixate on you, stud muffin?” Duke asks.

“I guess I’m just not as ruggedly handsome as our buddy over here,” Nathan responds.

Audrey laughs. “Or familiarity breeds contempt.” She shrugs at the looks they send her way. “She knows Nathan, probably all her life, just like she knows you, Duke, whether you realize it or not. Castle breezes into town, and he’s a stranger, and a flashy one at that--”

Castle smirks proudly.

“--of course a twelve-year-old would fixate on him, especially with that car.”

“She’s fourteen now,” Nathan says, “but I can live with that explanation.”

“As opposed to be being less attractive than me?” Castle says.

Nathan sends him a mock-glare followed by a shy half-smile. “It must be nice to be somebody’s hero,” he says wistfully.

Audrey puts a hand on his arm and he starts, then looks into her eyes, his own wide and a clear, limpid blue.

“You already are,” she says softly.

The moment is so sweet, Castle thinks he can hear his teeth decay, then realizes that no, that nibbling sound is real, and he glances around with growing confusion and down, because it’s coming from right under his--

The chair collapses, and he tumbles to the floor, but thankfully, he’d put his drink on the table.

The others stare, and he looks up at them with a frown and says, “A termite Trouble?”

“Or just really old chairs,” Duke says.

“I heard something chewing the wood,” Castle says.

Nathan reaches down and helps him to his feet, saying, “Well, a knight’s work is never done.”

They turn towards the windows at the first crashing sound and watch a building to the north of the Gull crumble to the ground.

“I could really use a holiday,” Nathan sighs.

Castle claps him on the shoulder. “If you promise not to bring the Troubles with you--well, other than the ones you already carry--you can come to New York and stay with me any time. Ryan and Esposito can show you how we do police work in the big city.”

Nathan smiles his shy smile. “Someday we may just do that.”

They finish their drinks, because Audrey and Nathan are theoretically off duty, then they head out the door to assess the damage and see if they can find the Troubled person before anybody or anything else gets hurt or destroyed.  



	6. Chapter 6

It takes them several days to resolve the termite Trouble, but when they do, the Troubled person is suitably remorseful, and throws themselves wholeheartedly into cleaning up the mess they made, and Castle gets to hear another story.

But time is running out. Beckett finishes her training in five days, and will be back in New York in six, the same day both Alexis and his mother return as well. Not great timing, really, because he would have liked to have Kate to himself for twenty-four hours, and do all the things he’s dreamt about while she’s been gone, but it can’t be helped. Besides, if he’s honest, he’s missed all the women in his life -- even his mother -- and he’s anxious to see them again, and take up the reins of his normal life.

That thought reminds him that they need to talk to Cecelia about her Trouble, because the last thing Castle needs is to be suddenly acting out a song in the middle of New York. Then again, he’s not sure anyone would notice.

It takes them a surprising amount of time to find her. She is, as Castle expected, the one all the kids know because they’ve made her their target of petty bullying, but no one seems to know much else about her. He remembers the haunted look in her eyes, and he wonders if the treatment she receives from her peers is what triggered her Trouble in the first place.

Dwight is the one who finds her, and brings her into the station, where he kindly sits her on a bench. He tells Audrey and Nathan, then, after a soothing word to Cecelia, leaves to do whatever it is he does, and Castle has learned there are some secrets even he can’t charm out of the town.

The girl sits hunched in upon herself. She’s big, and round, and trying to make herself small. She can at best be called plain, and she’s refusing to look at Castle where he’s standing with Nathan, Duke and Audrey, speaking in hushed tones.

“Her dad died six months ago,” Nathan says softly, his hands tucked up under his arms.

Castle grimaces in sympathy, his eyes fixed on the girl.

“Her mom?” he asks.

Nathan shrugs. ”Gone. No one knows where, or if they do, they’re not talking.”

Castle’s head whips in his direction. “Who’s been taking care of her?” he demands.

“Apparently no one. None of the neighbours were paying attention. Her mother, well, she stays to herself.” He smiles slightly. “I’ve been told she thinks she’s too good for this town.”

Castle raises an eyebrow.

“I guess it’s better than being terrified of it,” Duke says.

Audrey says, “I’ll talk to her,” and takes a step towards her.

Castle raises a hand, and stalls her. “This seems to be focused on me. Would you -- could I talk to her?”

Audrey hesitates. “The Troubles can’t be turned on and off like a light switch,” she reminds him.

“I know. I’ve been here for a while now. Besides, I’m not trying to turn it off,” he says, with a ghost of his crooked smile, “I’ll leave that to the experts. I think...she wants something from me. I’d like to know what it is.”

They stare at him; he stares back, his usual gleeful smirk gone from his face.

“Okay,” Audrey says, “we’ll watch from here. But, listen, Castle, just because this Trouble hasn’t been dangerous before doesn’t mean it couldn’t turn dangerous without warning. If it seems like things are going south--”

“Come and save my ass, okay? Please?”

She hesitates, then nods.

Castle’s expression sobers as he walks over to Cecelia and settles beside her.

She ducks her head further as he leans forward, trying to see her eyes.

“Hi,” he says softly.

Her eyes slide towards him, then away, all without lifting her head.

“I’m Rick,” he says and holds out his hand directly in her line of sight. “Rick Castle.”

She stares at his hand like it’s going to bite.

“It’s okay,” he assures her. “What’s your name?”

That earns him a resentful glare and a sneer. “You know,” she mutters.

Castle’s hand doesn’t waver.

“Yes, but I’d still like you to introduce yourself. Tell me who you are; a little bit about yourself.”

She drops her sneer to his hand, then hunches her shoulders even more and turns away.

Castle watches her thoughtfully, then lets his hand drop. “You do know you’re the one causing all the weird things going on around here, right? And I do mean all of them.”

That earns him a startled gasp, and she fully faces him for the first time as she gapes at him. He intently searches her round, puffy face, and shrugs.

“Well, okay, maybe not all the weird things.” He leans closer and whispers, “This is the most exciting town ever!” He widens his eyes and looks as much like an excited puppy as he possibly can.

He’s rewarded with a reluctant sound that might be a giggle, and he straightens and offers his hand again, waggling it slightly as he grins and says, “Hi. I’m Rick Castle.”

The girl reluctantly puts her limp hand into his. “Cecelia,” she mumbles.

Castle smiles, a genuinely pleased smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Cecelia, but I have got to teach you how to shake hands.”

She blushes, scowling, hurt flashing on her face as she tries to free her hand from his, but he’s got a firm grip on it.

“Don’t worry; it won’t take long. I had to teach my daughter this very same thing. Now, you want a firm grip, but not too firm, then shake once - twice - let go.”

He demonstrates, then looks at her with wide-eyed excitement, the same expression he uses on Alexis when he’s trying to convince her to play with him.

Cecelia stares, her face glowing red, but she’s mesmerized in spite of herself, and Castle hears Nathan say to Audrey and Duke, “Do you think he may actually be Troubled, too? Sort of like Chris?”

“I don’t think so,” Audrey replies. ”He’s just a natural charmer.”

“I wonder who Chris is,” Castle stage-whispers to Cecelia, and is rewarded with another almost-giggle. He sobers, and says, “I heard your dad passed away.”

Cecelia’s smile disappears, and she drops her gaze to the floor. She nods.

“Your mom?”

She shrugs, but doesn’t look at him.

“She’s gone, too, isn’t she? She left you.”

All Castle can see is the curve of her plump cheek, but now a tear slides down and drips onto her knee.

“Why did she leave you?”

“I don’t know,” Cecelia whispers, and Castle’s heart squeezes for the lost little girl beside him.

“Was it because of your gift?” he asks.

Her head snaps up at that, and she turns teary eyes towards him. “Gift?” she blurts loudly, and the others lift their heads.

Castle nods. “It must make you very popular with the other kids...”

Cecelia bursts into tears at that, and Castle without hesitation puts his arm around her and guides her head to his shoulder. He makes meaningless, soothing noises, and pats her back as the sobs get louder.

Nathan, Audrey and Duke drift closer, but Castle ignores them, focused only on the unhappy girl beside him.

“You poor kid,” he says when the sobs finally subside. “How long has your mother been gone?”

“Almost three months,” she mumbles, voice clogged and soggy. She accepts the kleenex Nathan offers her with a muttered thanks.

“Why didn’t you tell anybody?”

“Nobody to tell.”

“You don’t have any family here who can take care of you?”

She shakes her head.

“How have you been eating? Where have you been living?”

“I’ve been living in our house.”

“What are you doing for money?”

“My dad kept some in the house. He said you never knew when you might be run out of town on a rail, so having some getaway money on hand was always a good idea.”

Castle grins, his eyes sparkling. “He sounds like he was a lot of fun.”

She nods miserably.

“You miss him a lot?”

She nods again.

“Did he have the same gift as you? Making music come to life?”

She lifts her head and looks at him, frowning, her eyes suspicious. “Why do you describe it like that?” she demands.

“Because that’s what it is. Now, I’ll admit, I was scared the first few times it happened. That burning horse and the armour is a bit of a shock to the system when you’re not expecting it. But you know, dancing on the ceiling is kind of fun. It would be an awesome party trick.”

Cecelia’s frown deepens, as does her suspicion.

“You’re not mad at me?”

Castle chuckles. “For what?”

“You know for what!”

He laughs again and shakes his head. “When you sing or listen to a song--”

“Sing.”

“Okay. When you sing a song, you visualize someone while you’re doing it, right?”

She nods sheepishly.

“And whatever you’re singing about, however you’re visualizing that person in the song, that’s what happens to them, right?”

She nods again.

“Well, thank you.”

Her eyes widen. “For what?”

“I’m flattered that you thought of me as a white knight upon a fiery steed. Good taste in music, too, by the way.”

She blushes. “It’s my dad’s music collection,” she mutters. “He used to sing the songs to me, and...and make me part of the song.”

“Do you have to imagine the person into the song deliberately to make them a part of it, or does it just happen?”

“I have to deliberately do it.”

“So you have quite a lot of control over your gift, then?”

She blinks. “I...well, I suppose so...”

Castle rubs his hands together in glee. “That’s excellent! So, it ends when the person reacts to what’s happening? I mean, I managed to keep the last horse and armour thing going because I accepted it, and didn’t question it, so does it end when a person realizes what’s happening shouldn’t be happening?”

“I...I think so.”

Castle’s eyes gleam. “Oh, this is going to be so much fun!”

“Castle,” Audrey warns.

Castle looks shamefaced for a very brief moment before he leans closer to Cecelia and whispers, “We’ll test it out later.”

“Castle!”

He blinks wide, innocent eyes at Audrey. “Hey, it’s a fun gift!” He pauses, frowning, “Well, so long as she sticks to non-violent songs, of course, and by the time she’s old enough to really understand what some other songs are talking about, well, you’ll have solved the Troubles for good. Right?”

All of them, including Cecelia, stare at him in disbelief.

He shakes his head. “Half-full, people, half-full.”

~~~~~

Castle spends his last few days in Haven focused on Cecelia. Dwight finds her a foster family, and Castle visits. Her new foster parents seem nice, and Castle is cautiously optimistic that Cecelia’s life is only going to get better from now on.

On his last day in town, he gives Cecelia his phone number and tells her to call or text him whenever she wants.

She ducks her head, and he says, “I mean it.” He glances at her foster parents and says, “Maybe you can all come and visit during spring break. New York is a lot of fun, and I know my family would love to meet you.”

Cecelia bursts into tears, and he hugs her until she stops.

“I have to go,” he says, and leaves her standing on the porch with her new family, round and sad-eyed but more hopeful than when he’d first seen her. He hopes the next time they meet, that haunting sadness will be gone for good.

He returns to the precinct, where he says good-bye to Nathan, Audrey and Duke.

“I meant what I said before,” he tells them. “You’re welcome to visit, any time you need or want a break. I’ll show you a good time, and you’ll only have to worry about muggers and the occasional psychopath.”

“Now, there’s an offer we can’t refuse,” Audrey says, and hugs him.

He squeezes her tight, then shakes hands and exchanges man-hugs with Duke, then Nathan.

“I’ll send you copies of my next book,” he tells them. “I think you’ll find it’s very different from my usual work.”

Castle laughs at their alarmed faces, then runs down the precinct steps and gets into his convertible. He puts his sunglasses on with a flourish, and preens a little before he smirks, waves and roars off in a flash of red and noise.

~~~~~

Castle sits and watches his mother flit around the living room talking non-stop about her tour, floating sleeves, dramatic re-enactments and all. Alexis is tucked securely and safely against one side; Beckett’s on the other. These women, he thinks, these women are his life, and he wouldn’t trade them for anything, even though none of them have gotten around to asking him (yet) about how he’d spent his summer vacation.

He’s okay with that. They won’t believe him anyway, if he tells them the truth, and there’s something to be said for having something that’s his alone.

He’s happy, complete, glad they’re all home where they belong, and his heart swells with love and contentment. But he knows Kate’s going to continue to run their relationship; Alexis needs to find her own way, and Martha...he hides an exasperatedly fond sigh. Martha will always be his mother, in all its complicated glory.

His phone chimes gently as Martha and Alexis drift away, chattering happily, and Beckett groans she needs some sleep with a meaningful glance in his direction. He gets the message and nods, wide-eyed, eager.

While he’s waiting for her to emerge from their bathroom, he checks the text.

It’s from Audrey.

_Trees spontaneously bursting into flame. Ideas?_

He grins.

Best. Vacation. Ever.  


#####


End file.
